With weapons cocked and ready, and keeping a sharp look-out ahead, our
two friends stole quietly and warily along the shadow of the quince
hedge. Meanwhile the canine clamour increased tenfold; such a yelling,
and growling, and full-voiced baying as never before was heard.
"Why, they've treed something--look there!" whispered Claverton, as they
arrived upon the scene of the disturbance. And sure enough in the
branches of a small apricot-tree, which grew a little higher than the
quince hedge, they could make out the dark figure of a man, clinging
there as for dear life, while the dogs were leaping, and snapping, and
rolling over upon one another and into the ditch in their frantic
efforts to reach him. And, but for this timely refuge, he would have
been torn in pieces by the great fierce brutes.
"Come down, whoever you are," said Payne, speaking in the Kafir
language, "or I'll fire. If you attempt to run away the dogs will soon
catch you. Come down."
They could hear a muttered exclamation or two, and then the unknown
replied:
"Keep in the dogs, 'Nkos. I came here to visit you, to tell you some
news."
"All right. Come down. Here, Neptune, Corker, Slow--keep still, you
brutes. _Voertsek, Huis! to_!" [be off; home] cried Payne; and the
excited hounds reluctantly drew off with many a savage growl.
Then something dropped from the tree, there was a rustle in the quince
hedge, and a man stood before them in the darkness. Payne had just time
to restrain the dogs, who would have flung themselves upon this sudden
apparition there and then.
"Now, then, who are you and what do you want?" he asked.
"'Nkos, you remember me? But I can't talk here, it's cold and I've been
frightened, and I am old and weak."
"Why, it's Mhlanga," cried Payne, in astonishment. "But what the devil
d'you want with me at this time of night?"
"Hadn't we better take him to the house and give him a tot of grog?"
said Claverton. "He looks rather shaky."
"Of course. Come with us, Mhlanga," and they returned to the house,
where a liberal ration of undiluted spirit having sent a generous glow
through the Kafir's frame, that unexpected visitor squatted down on the
_stoep_ with his blanket huddled round him, and fired off an ejaculation
or two.
He was an old man, with a white head and a lean, gaunt frame, and in
spite of the potation shivered slightly from time to time as he sat
there, for he had had a very narrow escape from the jaws of the dogs.
Then he began, speaking in a low, rapid tone:
"When the grass-fire sweeps along the mountain side, who would stand in
its way because he had built a hut there? When yonder river rushes down
in a flood after the thunderstorms, who would stand in the drift and try
to beat it back with his hands? Why are you still here?"
"Why not, Mhlanga? You must speak plainer." The old Kafir made a
gesture of impatience. "Are you waiting till this moon is dead?" he
went on. "If so _you_ will never see it die. Go. Go while there is
time. What can two men do to stay the roaring flame through the long,
dry grass? Nothing. Will they stand in the middle and be consumed?
The grass is thoroughly dry and the torch is put in, the flame will
spread and devour all in its way. Even now it is kindled. Are you
tired of life?" concluded the old man in a more eager tone than he had
hitherto employed.
"The gist of the parable is obvious," remarked Payne to his companion,
who nodded assent. "By the way, this old bird was with me several years
and left suddenly some time ago, because he wanted a change. Now, you
see, he's doing the very confidence trick we were just talking about.
Have some more grog, Mhlanga."
The old man held out his tin mug with alacrity for Payne to replenish.
Then he tossed off the contents, heaved a sigh or two and was about to
speak, when suddenly he stopped short and appeared to be listening
intently.
"Come," he said, rising. "Come with me, _Amakosi_!"
"Oh, that's another pair of shoes," said Payne, suspiciously. "But,
Mhlanga; why should you come here to tell me this--eh?"
"I was with you for several years, 'Nkosi, and when the snake bit me you
put in the medicine stuff that healed it. I do not wish harm to befall
you."
"Oho! gratitude's the order of the day, is it?" Then to the Kafir:
"Steer ahead, Mhlanga."
They followed the old man as he led the way to the brow of a slight
eminence a few hundred yards from the homestead. Above, the stars
twinkled in their silent watch, twinkled on ever the same. The midnight
sky, moonless, and arching overhead like a heavy pall of blue-black
velvet besprinkled with gold-dust, was oppressive in its darksome
serenity, and there was something in the mystery and suddenness of the
whole situation which even to the tried nerves of the two white men was
intolerably awesome and thrilling. Far away in the distance, beyond the
mouth of the defile or gap, a few fires glowed like sparks.
"Listen," said the Kafir, pointing with his sticks in the direction of
this. "When the _amajoni_ [soldiers] are mustered _kwa Rini_ [at King
Williamstown], the trumpet is blown in the morning sunshine, and all the
town hears it, for its voice is of brass. Ha! When the chiefs of the
Amaxosa gather their fighting men the trumpet is sounded too, but it is
sounded in the blackness of midnight; and all the country hears it, for
its voice is of fire. Look," he went on. "Even now the chiefs are
talking to each other. The Fire Trumpet is calling the tribes to war."
As he spoke a red tongue of flame leapt forth from the darkness against
the distant horizon, where it flashed and burned for a few minutes.
Then from another high point a second beacon-fire gleamed, followed by a
third; and as the watchers gazed in half-incredulous wonder, not unmixed
with awe, a strange, weird, resounding cry rose upon the midnight air,
gathering volume as it rolled, as if kindled by those threatening
beacons which glowed in the midnight firmament from the Kei to the far
Amatola. Again and again pealed forth that dismal sound, and then all
was still as the fiery signal shot up redly from half-a-dozen lofty
elevations, and then sank as suddenly as it had blazed forth, until
nearly invisible. And that unearthly and ominous cry might well strike
a chill to the hearts of the listeners, for it was the war-cry of the
formidable Gaika clans.
"Who was the man who asked leave to sleep in the huts, to-night?" asked
the old Kafir, meaningly. "If he is here to-morrow, if your three herds
are here to-morrow, if they answer when you call them, then I have been
telling you lies. Listen, 'Nkosi," he concluded, impressively. "You
are a good man. You saved my life once, and I have come far to talk to
you to-night. Take your wife and your children, and your sheep, and
cattle, and go--go away into the town where they will be safe, and that
to-morrow, _for the call of the Fire Trumpet has rung in the heavens,
and the land is dead_."
Payne was more impressed than he would care to own, and made up his mind
to act upon the other's words, if not to-morrow, yet at no distant date.
"Well, Mhlanga," he began, "if it's as you say, and--Why, by George,
what's become of the fellow?" he broke off, in astonishment.
For the Kafir had disappeared. He had vanished as he had come--
silently, mysteriously. They called to him once or twice, but without
result. His mission was accomplished and he was gone.
They turned towards the house. Suddenly, from the summit of one of the
highest of the Kei hills, there blazed forth another fire, reddening the
sky overhead, and they could make out distinctly the darting, leaping
flames, shooting upward like demon tongues. And this startling answer
from the opposite direction brought home to these two more vividly than
ever a sense of their position, hemmed in between the plotting tribes
now flashing their gruesome midnight messages of fire the one to the
other, conveying in a moment to thousands of eager barbarians the dread
signal, of which the destructive element was a terribly fitting
exponent.
"I say," suddenly exclaimed Payne; "let's go and see if that nigger that
came this afternoon is still in the huts."
They went to the huts. A snore from inside told that these were still
inhabited, and a sleepy growl or two as in obedience to their master's
summons the slumbering Kafirs aroused themselves. By the light of a
match, which Payne held in his hand, several recumbent forms huddled in
their blankets became visible.
"Here, Booi; where's the chap who came here this afternoon?" asked
Payne.